iWon't Listen
by SeddieLUV
Summary: "I don't need you," I sob, shaking my head miserably. "Ana is helping me; You can't take her away!" Carly struggles with Anorexia with the help of "Ana"- while slowly destroying herself. Eventual Seddie
1. Prologue: Definition of Perfection

Prologue: Definition of Perfection

"Ahhhh-ahhhh" Another scream echoes through the night, bouncing off the walls. I clap a hand over my mouth to muffle the next one that bubbles up in my throat like the beast that I sound like, clawing its way out. I won't let them escape my lips, won't let them-

_Shut up, Carly and focus! Do you want Spencer to hear your pathetic wails and find you like this?_ Ana scolds furiously. Ana, the _only_ person who stays when all others abandon me, the _only_ one who understand my suffering, the pain starvation brings so frequently, constantly, coming back like a boomerang. But I don't try and stop it. This is the consequence of my actions, the actions I have chosen willingly.

I suppose I do like frightful in the darkness of my bathroom like this. The door is locked tight to help drown out my miserable sobs as I curl up in this- as Ana would say- pathetic ball on the cold, cold tile. Oh, it is so cold. My body has been incapable of conserving heat lately, I am never warm, never satisfied. Never regretting this even for a second.

Ana has promised time and time again that this will make me finally satisfied with myself. No more having to scowl and feel hopeless and discouraged every time I look in the mirror. It may be unbearable torture now but it will pay off in the long run. I will walk away a winner, victorious and skinny.

At least, - a wave of nausea sweeps over me like a tsunami despite the fact that there is nothing left in my stomach to lose- if I can make it through tonight.

_Strong is perfection. _Ana reminds me. Ana is my definition of perfection. She'll suffer with me, give me the body I so desperately crave like a breath of fresh air, like a life source.

Oh, Ana don't leave me.


	2. Chapter 1: Flashback Peacefulness

iWon't Listen

Chapter 1: Flashback (Peacefulness)

"Carly, you made it!" Sara Goldman exclaims happily in her perky, cheerleader kind of way. She's practically bouncing up and down as I hand her the brightly wrapped package, her blond curls flying about her. Her energy reminds of a little girl's.

"Thanks for inviting me, Sara." I say politely. "Your birthday party looks awesome."

"Oh, it is!" She launches in to a long, incredibly descriptive for someone like her, overview of what we'll be doing. She has everything planned out from opening presents, to bidding the guests farewell two hours from now. Only two hours to go.

I tune her out as she continues babbling on in her annoyingly cheerful high pitched voice. While she discusses what the highlights of her party are going to be, I'm going over strategies with myself. _Ok, the best way to avoid the birthday cake? Eat a bite or two, taking your time. After that is opening presents, so when everyone jumps up to go do that you can just throw the cake away._ We're both smiling as Sara finishes her little speech, but for different reasons. I'm not about to eat that death trap masked by creamy swirls of blue and white frosting. I've only just achieved 95 pounds on the scale. But is it enough? Oh, no. Not by a long shot.

"I never knew you were such a good skater!" Jenny Walker comments as we whip around a hairpin curve for, like, the fifth time. Jenny is a girl in my Chemistry class, nice but I don't know her all that well.

"What about you? I'm working hard just to keep up." I say teasingly. Jenny's flaming red hair flies behind her as we make another loop.

I'm breathing hard as the wheels on our roller blades stop. Ugh. I'm suddenly overcome with dizziness and I force the brake on my right skate's heel in to the shiny wooden floor. I hear Jenny gasp as she continues rolling forward, trying to backtrack.

"Carly! Are you ok?" Jenny rushed up to me frantically. She shoves another curly lock of hair out of her face and peers anxiously at my own.

Thinking fast, I blurt, "Yeah, fine. Just tired-"

Before I can process what's happening, I'm slipping, falling. I'm aware that I slam against the side of the rink but I can't focus on it when the dizziness is so powerful, so overwhelming.

Huh. That's strange. The pain has never been this bad before. It's shooting up my side. No, it's everywhere. And yet it's all centered on the same place. This surpasses anything that I've ever experienced. I realize I'm biting my lip hard and let go. As soon as I do a scream- AGGGHHHH- echoes through the roller skating rink that I have never heard before. That couldn't be me. No, that is a wild animal howling in agony, screeching for mercy.

My heart seems like it trying to push through my paper thin skin, as white as a sheet of notebook paper. Another scream but it has no effect. I just lay there on the floor like an idiot, not knowing what to do and not able to even if I tried.

People have noticed now and are shouting, skidding to a stop on their skates, whipping out cell phones and dialing nine-one-one.

Jenny's shocked face is the last thing I see clearly before my vision is blurred. Her mouth is moving and I'm certain words are coming out, I just can't hear them. Sara Goldman is frowning, demanding that I get up and stop whatever game I'm playing right now.

Jenny is kneeling over my sprawled form, her curly tresses tickling my nose and the sweet, delicate fragrance of her perfume is almost enough to distract me from the pain that's getting stronger... But it's no use. I'm tumbling down in to the pitch black nothingness that has taken control. Finally, peacefulness is mine at last.

Author's Note: I apologize if this chapter moves a little slow, but please continue reading I promise it gets more exciting. Here is my challenge to all of you who read this: If I get 30 comments or more there will be a sequel in the near future! R&R

-Author Of iWon't Listen


	3. Chapter 2: Last and Certainly Least

iWon't Listen

Chapter 2: Last and Certainly Least

The silence is shattered in to a million fragile pieces as the shrill whistle blows.

I wince and cover my ears with both hands as the whistle's sharp and piercing sound fills the football field once more. It's so loud, so horrible that I think I can actually _feel_ it's ringing in my bones, its eagle-like cries seeping in to my skin. Oh, how I wish my bones were as light as a bird, so hollow and slim. But I'm strong enough to withstand a silly piece of metal. I've experienced worse in my fifteen years. I can handle anything.

The flashback starts then, there's no way to stop it. There never is. Once it begins I'm forced to wait until it ends… ends like it did when I was actually there. It's all so clear. A stupid birthday party ended in disaster… almost exposed my secret. So amazingly vivid it was like it was seared onto my brain forever with something white-hot, like I was branded with the memories like cattle.That was two years ago.

I shiver despite the warm weather April has brought along with its rain. The air is so still, so calm this time of year. The flowers are in full bloom, bright and colorful, their petals soft and delicate. Summer is just around the corner. It's so close, it's like I can taste the sweet blackberries on my tongue, smell the smoke from the barbecues that are yet to come. Maybe I'll actually eat the tender, juicy steaks this time. Maybe I'll-

_NO! _Ana causes my thoughts to halt, skid to a stop before they can fully form_. You're better than that, stronger than that._ As usual, Ana is right. Ana is always right.

I think back to the day it had really begun. It was a week after the roller skating incident, everything had calmed down. I had managed to elude discovery, my secret had remained intact as it currently was. I had been checking out some of the Pro Ana sites and discovered Ana, short for Anorexia Nervosa. She had merely been a term, an abbreviation. But to some girls she was known as another term. Inspiration.

So by the time I had logged off, Ana was born. And soon she wasn't just in my head, she was outside of it. I pictured her standing next to me, her long golden blond waves mocking my own stick straight brown mess. She would taunt me; remind me of all I was not on her little toothpick legs. Ana _helped_ me.

"Carls, aren't you gonna eat that sandwich?" Sam had asked on that same day as she took a huge bite of her own. I imagined her taste buds singing as they make contact with the ham and cheese on white bread. If only she knew about the carbs that were in that. I bet then she wouldn't be so smug.

I knew I was in danger so I conjured up a look of disgust that spread across my face like wildfire. The perfect excuse came to me like a psychic having a vision. "You do realize that you made these, right? You haven't washed your hands since fifth grade!" I had laughed and playfully tossed a plump green grape at her. She had snickered and dropped the subject, forgetting all about the point she had been trying to make.

"Daniels, McHenry, you're team captains. Pick your teammates." Coach Henley instructed though it was hard to understand what she was saying with that whistle clenched between her teeth.

I stepped back, knowing I wouldn't be first. I hadn't been first in anything it seemed for a while now. It wasn't that I was bad at sports, just the opposite. I wouldn't be able to get up and run in the mornings, or do crunches on my bedroom floor to the point of exhaustion in secrecy if I had no athletic ability. It was just that the teams were always chosen by the girls who looked the strongest, the toughest. Naturally, Sam was picked first.

Time flew by until it was only me and Karen from my English class. Karen? Karen looked like she wasn't capable of pulverizing an ant, so scrawny was she. How had I ended up with her? Her name was called, she abandoned me with nothing more than a sympathetic smile. I deserved it. I wasn't skin and bones like she was. I envied her, in fact. Our fans on iCarly may have commented on my weight loss, but I knew the truth. It wasn't enough.

_Of course not, Carly,_ Ana agrees as she shakes her head disapprovingly. _Of course not._


	4. Chapter 3: Underneath the Skin

iWon't Listen

Chapter 3: Underneath the Skin

_Starvation is control, control is tough. Bones are beautiful, when skinny just isn't enough._ Ana repeats as the treadmill's speed increases. I imagine her standing next to the treadmill while I physically exert myself, arms crossed like a drill sergeant barking orders. Pretty soon I'm chanting along with her, muttering it under my breath between gasps for air. My lungs are aching, every breath I take sends sharp pains shooting up my side, and Ana never lets me forget even for a second that I'm not pencil-thin like she is. But despite all of my misery, I feel myself getting stronger with every step I take.

"Miss Shay, do you have the answer?" Mr. Coleman calls on me in spite of me sinking lower and lower in my seat, wishing there was some other Carly Shay in the class. But alas, there was only me. Carly Shay A.K.A. the girl who was failing math.

"I- I don't-" I stammer nervously as I squint at the board and try to make out the complicated algebraic problem. My hands are clammy and my voice catches in my throat. "No sir, I don't." I can feel my classmate's eyes on me but I keep them trained on the back of Jenny Walker's chair in front of mine.

Mr. Coleman sighs disappointedly but picks someone else instead. I used to have the answers in math. I had been a model student. That was before Ana came in to my life. That was back when I had actually had the time to learn math.

Lately I had been so tired my life had fallen in to one routine: Get up, exercise, and go to school. Come home, exercise, do my homework, exercise, and finally collapse in to bed. Then I woke up to repeat this endless cycle all over again. And again and again and again. It was never good enough. And if Ana wasn't satisfied, neither was I. Maybe that was why Jenny stopped me when the bell rang at the end of class.

"Carly, are you ok?" It sounds like a question but she, I and Ana all know it isn't. Jenny knows my secret regardless of the way she pretends not to.

A steely look of anger flashes in my eye as I respond coolly, "Yeah, Jen. I guess I'm just not in the best of moods on Monday." I'm wondering how Jenny can look exactly the same as two years ago.

Jenny rambles off a list of questions then, surprising me. I'm not prepared to lie. I need Ana's guidance. "Did you have a good weekend? What did you do? We really need to have lunch together some time, catch up. It's been a while since…" Jenny pauses as if trying to decide whether I can handle her next sentence. I can handle anything. "Sara's party two years ago." Jenny chooses her words carefully, leaving out my very first faint that is the price for being thin. _The price is never too high._ Ana reminds me.

I hesitate before answering Jenny and pay dearly for it. It's like Ana is beaming these images straight in to my brain. The Snickers bars, the pint of Cookies N Cream ice cream, the homemade chocolate chip cookies… my weaknesses, oh, make it stop! Makeitstopmakeitstop.

"You're right. How about tomorrow after school we do something. It's nice to see you haven't changed since then." I suggest casually, allowing the corners of my mouth to turn up just barely, the hint of a smile. That ought to fool her.

School felt like eternity that day, my never ending classes droned on and on. All I wanted to do was sleep, just put my head down and sleep. At one point during third period Reading class I accidentally fell asleep while Mrs. Stern (I kid you not) was making us read and annotate another chapter of To Kill a Mockingbird. Needless to say, I spent the next fifteen minutes getting an earful of a lecture. That is one mistake I won't be making again.

I watch silently as Sam feeds the creased and wrinkled one dollar bill-which I loaned her- in to the vending machine which eagerly accepts it. I say nothing as Sam jabs the D4 button with one finger. Hmm. She's been biting her nails again. The uneven, chewed up edges only allow me to catch a glimpse before Sam lowers her hand self-consciously. She has caught me staring. I'll have to be more subtle from now on. Sam is becoming the kind of person who notices the little details in life and that could mean the death of Ana.

_You'd better hope your cow-like thighs it doesn't._ Ana threatens. She's right of course. With the death of Ana comes the death of me.

_Faster! You are weak Carly, pathetic. Is that what you want? To be a cow forever? _ Ana is feeling particularly forceful today. Images of juicy, greasy hamburgers and milkshakes flash through my mind.

No. I tell her, silently moving my lips as I push myself harder, the strain on my limbs rocketing upward. I am used to this punishment. I've forgotten how to relax. All I know is control, as Ana puts it. I mumble the quote as I swim; my legs and arms pumping through the water with barely a splash.

I've only got an hour before Spencer will come home from his art exhibit and he'll expect me to be there instead of here at the public pool, exerting myself further than ever before. "Starvation is control, control is tough. Bones are beautiful, when skinny just isn't enough." How very true. I picture my bones underneath this cursed body, pure white and gleaming. They're under there, I can feel them. I just have to find them. This is where Ana and I agree. I _will_ find them.

Author's Note: Questions? Ideas for upcoming chapters? R&R and I promise I will consider your suggestions. Thanks you so much for reading this far! It means so much to me when you comment on this story. New chapter to come soon.


	5. Chapter 4: Masks

Chapter 4: Masks

I am at 90 pounds now. So little the numbers have dropped… I deserve the stares people give me when I walk down the hallways at school. I deserve the disoriented feeling I wake up with after a restless night of doing crunches on the carpet. More than anything I want those digits to plummet in to the 80's, 70's, the 60's even. I am SO close. But still so far.

"Carls, stop! Seeing you eat all that- that rabbit food is making me wanna puke!" Sam moans dramatically at lunch the next day. She pretends to be nauseated and holds her hands up to her face, shielding herself from my lunch, a wall between her and the Vegetarian Lover's salad I bought from the snack bar.

I roll my eyes. "Drama Queen." I accuse and spear another piece of chopped celery. The bland array of celery, carrots, tomatoes, and lettuce drizzled with ranch dressing (low fat obviously) in the plastic container is suddenly unappealing and unappetizing. Was Sam right when she called it rabbit food? I certainly didn't want to be branded a- I repress a shudder- bunny, no matter how cute and fluffy they are.

"Why do you want that stuff? You've gotten so skinny lately. You're like those girls on America's Next Top Model."

"Yeah, well, I'm done anyhow." I dump the salad in the trash and shrug. I've barely taken two bites of my pitiful lunch but that's fine. Ana is now telling me that lunch is a bad idea. She's probably right.

"Yo, Freddork, how's it hangin'?" Sam greets Freddie with one of her many, _many_ insults to his name as he approaches our table and takes a seat across from me. I can see him mentally trying to calm himself, to not sink to her level. But Sam is so often the winner for these little disputes I wonder how he puts up with it as long as he does.

Freddie merely sighs and he gingerly touches his bruised black eye. Oh yeah. That must be a constant reminder to him. I do my best to imagine what he thinks of when he looks in the mirror and come up with Sam. Argue. OW. Yep, that pretty much covers it.

"Freddie, I haven't seen you lately. Where've you been?" I realize with a guilty pang (though that might just be the hunger talking) that these words are true. I've been absorbed in my own selfish world, forgetting my friends and focusing on keeping Sam away from the truth. Yeah, I'm a great best friend, aren't I?

"Oh, uh…" Freddie seems pleasantly surprised by my sudden interest in latest whereabouts. Note to self: Make time between exercise and schoolwork for movie night with friends.

"Whatever, no one cares, Fredaccini!" Sam interrupts. "Carls, what are you gonna eat? You can't… starve." I notice the way Sam and Freddie exchange a look. What, did they get together and talk about how I wasn't eating lunch anymore?

_You're not stupid, are you? There's a dollar in your purse! Go buy yourself one of those giant cookies. _Ana scorns.

I've learned to listen to Ana at all times. Otherwise, I'll relive Sara's B- Day all over again… "You're right. I'll have…" I pretend to scan the menu for just the right snack. "That!" I get up and walk briskly to the snack bar. I'm the only one in line so there's no wait. "One chocolate chip cookie, please." I ask politely. The lunch lady gives me a look complete with raised eyebrows that suggests I'm off my rocker but doesn't question me.

I grudgingly hand over that dollar I do s_o_ not want to part with but force myself. _Just think how great it'll_ _be when you've got the lean, skinny body you want!_ Ana shows me an image of me… but also not me.

This version of Carly is flawless, absolute perfection in every conceivable way. That's all it takes. I thrust the money across the counter and march back to our table, cookie held high above my head in victory. Yeah, nothing crazy about that!

Freddie and Sam look relieved so I wave farewell with my cookie in hand and saunter out of the cafeteria. As soon as the double doors swing shut behind me the buzz of teenagers gossiping and talking loudly between devouring whatever food they've bought today abruptly stops.

I quadruple check to make sure no one is around. I give the cookie one last stare full of longing but push those thoughts aside. No. I cannot think about the enticing glimmer of half melted chocolate chips or the chewiness of- I hurl the cookie in to the trash can and walk away. Behind me, Ana is smiling approvingly.

"Carly!" Jenny exclaims excitedly. She leans in to give me a bear hug.

I stand there like a zombie. At first I don't recognize the girl standing before me but I blink and pretend it doesn't bother me. Jenny. The girl who just yesterday had been branded (at least in my mind) the same girl! Now that was wrong. There was no truth to that anymore. Jenny was noticeably different, but for good or bad I couldn't decide.

Her gorgeous corkscrew curls were gone. She had obviously gotten a haircut sometime after school yesterday while I had been swimming and struggling through three hours of homework. The hair I had envied so many times before was just… gone.

Ok, not "gone" gone. But the part of her people remembered the most. It was now cut in a stylish bob that came to just above her shoulders and accentuated her small frame. It wasn't exactly bad; it looked quite good on her in fact. Maybe I just need some time to accept the fact, learn to deal with change.

"Where are we going?" I wonder out loud as Jenny leads me down the sidewalk. Storm clouds are forming overhead and it looks like a storm is in our near future. But hey, this is Seattle. It's not exactly breaking news every time a raindrop falls. We're pretty used to it.

Jenny doesn't respond. She just points across the street. I look to where she's pointing and see it: Baskin Robbins.

This is it? The ideal place for us to catch up is by gossiping over a scoop of calories? No way. Not happening. I'm not about to risk the potential of what I could be just because some girl wants to chat about something dumb that happened two years ago.

But before I know it, I'm perched on one of the round stools next to Jenny with a large waffle cone in hand containing a fattening double scoop of Mint Chocolate Chip.

"I'm allergic to dairy products!" I blurt out. Ana pops up next to me. She's laughing, dancing around on her stick legs and taunting me. _Once you eat that there's no going back._ She smiles a sickening, sugary sweet smile at me, as sugary as the ice cream I'm about to indulge in. No,No,NO!

Oh, but it smells so _good_! So perfectly rich and sweet… it would be so easy to just have a lick or two… STOP! I can't. I want it so bad it hurts but I can't, can't, can't, I just can't. It's a death trap. Nothing but a sugar coated death trap. I'm stronger than that.

"Carly, you have a problem." Jenny informs me with a blank expression. I can't tell what she's thinking because it's like she is wearing an expressionless mask.

"That's not random or anything," I remark sarcastically.

"But it's true." Still that same "mask" shielding her emotions. Why?

"You're insane!" I switch tactics instantly. She can't beat me. _No one_ can beat Carly Shay.

"Well, you're anorexic. Frankly, that's worse." She's playing straight for the throat now.

"Oh, I am? Wow, thanks for telling me! I had no idea." My voice is falsely cheerful.

We counter each other's quick remarks like we're passing notes in secrecy. It's strange. She is strange. She's hiding something…. I'll find out what it is.


	6. Chapter 5: Deserted Once More

Chapter 5: Deserted Once More

"Sam and Freddie are here!" Spencer shouts from the kitchen downstairs. I look up from my laptop and sigh. It would be so nice if my two bet friends weren't always at my house. Oh well.

"Coming, be right there!" I yell back at the top of my lungs. I imagine the three of them down there together, cringing at my loud and barely repressed shrieking.

I figure I'll still have one, maybe two minutes until Spencer calls me again. Perfect. I go back to where I had been lazily killing time. With a simple touch of the mouse, the little white cursor is zooming up to the top of the homepage. Once again I'm amazed at Freddie's tech skills. Geeky maybe, but he really outdid himself. Note to self: Remind Freddie how much we need him for iCarly.

I double click on a section called Viewer's Comments and drum my fingers against the smooth polished surface of my desk while I wait for it to load. The computer whirrs and hums before the page pops up. The screen glows.

The first few comments are not untypical just the usual dribble we get. Stuff like 'iCarly rocks!' or, 'Sam, meatballs must cower when they see you.' Hey, did I ever say _we _were normal?

I'm about to exit and head downstairs when I see one comment that catches my attention. I stop scrolling down and click on it.

From CarlyCraze58: Hey Carly,

I've noticed lately that you've, well, lost a lot of weight. Why? I've attached a link below just in case. Did you know that hundreds of people die from eating disorders every day? Maybe it's not my business, but you should consider seeking help. Maybe a friend or a professional if you need it. I'd hate to see anything break up the iCarly team!

Keep the laughs coming, not ending.

-CarlyCrazy58

For a moment I just sit there too stunned to move. Then my brain finally wakes up, responds to this message. It only takes the press of a button. Delete. That's better.

Who does this girl think she is? What, she thinks she can tell me if I need 'professional help' or not? Oh yeah, I'm totally gonna listen to her. Not.

I now weigh 87 pounds. She's wasting her time. I'm so much stronger now. But so much weaker, too. It doesn't matter. This one, dumb fan, clever as she is, will not ruin my plans, my hopes, my goals. Ana will see to that. Ha. Ana will protect me.

I take this opportunity of momentary anger to slam the laptop shut. I unlock my bedroom door and pull it open with brute force. It feels kinda good.

"Car- Oh, there you are." Sam greets me with half a PB&J sandwich in one claw… oops, I mean hand.

"Here I are." I reply sarcastically. Sam is so impatient sometimes.

"So what were you doing?" Freddie asks casually.

I blink. "Wow, Fredward. You need to get a life. Since when do I run every decision by you first?"

_Good… a distraction. Not too obvious as long as there's a hurtful comment in there somewhere. Now apologize and change the subject._ Ana instructs carefully. She obviously has thought about this many times.

"Freddie, I didn't mean that. Forgive me?" I tell myself I'm only imagining the hurt look on his face. It must just be the hunger that's making me hallucinate. Yeah, that's it.

Freddie shrugs off my apology like he's a bull at a rodeo and I'm just an amateur cowboy completely out my element. "It's fine. Let's eat." He makes a move towards the kitchen where Spencer is spooning heaps of steaming pasta onto four plates.

I hesitate. "Well- I already ate. Jenny and I had ice cream after school." I say this with as much sincerity as I can muster. It's only a partial lie.

Spencer just nods with a good-natured smile of approval, but Freddie and Sam aren't so quick to give their assent.

"What time?" Freddie asks coolly. He watches me carefully, warily.

"I told you." My words are slow and cautious. If I reveal too much or too little it's, so long, Ana! That _cannot_ happen. "Right after school we went to Baskin Robbins."

It occurs to me now how dependent I am of Ana. She's so much smarter than and so much quicker to know lie I need to say. My conscience doesn't completely block out the guilt I feel inside, but Ana is like a repellent. She wields so much wisdom; I've come to idolize her. My vision of perfection, my personal best friend inside my own head, as constant as the sun.

Ana isn't like Sam. She's better in a way. Sam would never stay with me while I'm in agonizing pain, the torture of famine too intolerable sometimes to bear alone. When I need to stay silent and undetected, Ana is always there. She might scold and criticize, but she gets me through my unending torture. She's the light at the end of the tunnel.

"What flavor did you get?" It's Sam's turn to quiz me. I don't take her as seriously though. I'm pretty sure she's more interested in imagining the perfect spherical scoop perched on that crunchy cone than she is grilling me for details of my afternoon.

With a simple shrug, I go, "Mint chocolate chip. It was really good."

Sam's eyebrows furrow unexpectedly. "Wait, Jenny Walker? I've seen her around a few times. You're friends with her now?"

Sam's dubious tone makes me quick to defend Jenny, defend our budding friendship. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Problem, Puckett?"

Spencer has been watching our three way feud and now makes up his mind to intervene. "Ok, then. Sam and Freddie, you can stay and eat if you wanna. Carls isn't hungry. It's no big deal."

Sam shakes her head sadly. "You're still in denial. Just remember what we said yesterday. Eventually drastic measures will need to be taken. Are you up for that? The alternate is- never mind. Just think about it, Spence. Please. For _her_ sake, do that."

Sam grabs Freddie's wrist and pulls him to the door, then thinks better of it and runs back to grab a couple spaghetti tacos-I 'm not surprised in the slightest- for the road.

I dash after them. They aren't getting away that easily. "Wait! What did you mean by that? Sam! Come back here! Sam, Freddie!" No answer. They march down the hall and as I watch the elevator doors slide shut, taking my friends out of view, I know. Oh, this is bad. This is it. No escape. No way out.

I return sullenly to the kitchen where Spencer is leaning against the counter with one hand gripping the counter so hard his knuckles are white. "Carly." He whispers hoarsely.

I'm dreading what will happen next. I shuffle my feet forward, step by step until I'm just inches away from him. "Yes?"

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. Then he takes a shaky breath and says, "Go upstairs."

I don't protest. I'm up the stairs so fast it's like a bullet from a gun. Oh, Ana, Ana, Ana, Ana. I can't lose you. What will I do?

But Ana is gone. She has abandoned me and yet I can't bring myself to blame her, to be angry and resentful. After all, I brought this upon myself.

_That's right. You disgust me, little girl. You can't keep your secret without me. Let's see how well you do one night by yourself._ Ana is cackling now. She's fading away slowly but surely. Her golden tresses shimmering and her pencil-thin figure glowing as they dissolve. I cannot stop her. I cannot make her stay. This is my punishment for the truth being so close to-if not already- exposure.

My overactive imagination is spiraling back to that night… that cold night on the bathroom floor.

Me. No Ana. Cold bathroom floor. All night.

There's no hope.

Author's note: Please R&R! A new chapter (Chapter 5) will be available on Thursday, February 3rd. Additional chapters will be posted EVERY DAY following that. Check back often! I appreciate your comments and am so pleased you have read this far. But don't stop now. Actions and twists yet to come! You won't be disappointed.


	7. Chapter 6: Scaring Ana

Chapter 6:

I strolled through the front doors of Ridgeway High the next morning, looking confident and relaxed. But how I felt beneath the surface? That was another matter entirely. One I wished to avoid at the moment. But did Jenny-I still didn't know her full name- let me have the peace and quiet I needed before the bell rang, and with it, 7 hours worth of loud and constant work? What do you think?

"Carly, I uh- I had fun yesterday. We just got off on the wrong foot. How about today we do whatever you wanna do? Anything at all, just name it." Jenny's smile is unwavering and genuine. Not a trace of insincerity hidden between the lines.

"Whatever." I'm too exasperated to keep making excuses. And I need Ana's help to force the lies past my lips. I need her more than I had been willing to admit before. It's almost scary how much.

Jenny detects my exhaustion and something off in my forced smile. "Are you ok? For real, I mean? You can tell me. I won't breathe a word to anyone."

Interesting choice of words, 'Breathe', that is. "What' your real name?" I'm suddenly overcome with questions for her. What's her favorite food? How does she know so much about my-Shhh!-eating disorder? It's uncanny the way she _always_ knows.

"Meet me at the back behind the school by the dumpsters when school ends. You want to know my secret? 2:30, promise me." There's something about Jenny that makes me agree. It's not because she seems nice and eager to be friends with me-though she does- and it's not because I feel a sort of bond with her regarding that unfortunate mishap two years ago-though it helps- but because she is hiding something. I can feel it. It's as clear as glass, as broad as daylight. I'm planning on finding out exactly what *it* is.

_Have you learned you lesson?_ Ana's sugary sweet voice whispers next to me. She's standing beside my open locker, taping a picture of me to the locker. My heart yearns for the beautiful and flawless image of me once more, but the picture before me is only a dark reminder of what currently stands. The monster that hides her face in shame. More than anything, I want to see that picture change. That picture will be nothing more than the distant past. It will no longer be the present and future. I will obey Ana's every decision. Ana knows best. No more questioning her judgment. That is the only way to win this never ending battle. Ana is my armor, my shield. Anorexia is my sword, the wickedly sharp weapon I wield. Food is the opposing team that, in time, will fall. Oh, yes it will.

"There she is!"

I spin around on my black and white converse-clad heel just in time to see (who else) Samantha and Fredward darting toward me. Huh. I hadn't been aware that Sam was capable of moving that swiftly.

They continue to advance and from up close they look astonishingly daunting. It could just be the hunger pains….

"You take that side, I'll take the left." Freddie orders and they each take hold of one side of me, Freddie grasping my left arm, Sammie holding fast to my right. For the love of (certainly not ice cream), what is going on here?

"Uh, is there a pep rally or something?" I'm at a loss for words and unable to conjure up a more snarky comment. Oh well.

Sam makes a sound of disbelief and rolls her eyes as if I've said something downright stupid intentionally just to get a rise out of her. "Yeah, 'cuz I go to all the pep rallies. Really, Shay, you know me better than that."

She had me there. Can't argue with that kind of logic. It would be like asking a fish to fly, a ballerina to break dance, or Sam to become a vegetarian. Any of those would surely mess up the balance of the universe. I mean, without Sam, the world's bacon supply would be seriously overflowing. Sam keeps those numbers nice and limited. That's my girl. My pork loving, aggressive, blond demon. Gotta love her.

"I'm still confused!" I exclaim. What is going on? Why won't they tell me and, hang on, a new thought just occurred to me. Jenny! I'm going to miss my meeting with Jenny and I'll never find out what that little red-headed living reminder of my past is keeping from me.

_But you can't let your friends discover the truth about you._ Ana reasons in her usual singsong way. I'm so relieved that she isn't mad at me anymore, that she's back to her normal ways of criticizing me then coddling afterwards that I stop dead in my tracks.

_Just play along! _

Hey, whose side are you on, Ana?

"Carls, please!" Sam begs. She looks upset and on the verge of tears. Not possible. I do a double take but my eyes aren't deceiving me. This is freaky. Sam Puckett can handle anything. I thought.

Freddie remains silent. He stares stone still at me, his features as cold and uninviting as a rock. What happened to the high pitched boy who had been in love with me? Was that all gone?

"Just… come on. We'll explain in the car." Freddie resumes walking then, dragging me along with him. Sam remembers what they had been doing and follows his lead.

"Who died?" I wondered aloud as we emerge into the glorious sunlight of late afternoon. I had missed it. It seemed like it had been away for years instead of hours. How could it be so cheerful and unchanging when my life was nothing but secrecy and deception?

A silver Volvo is idling the curb in front of us. No. _My_ silver Volvo. Spencer?

"Hey, Spence, what's up?" I greet timidly. My older brother blinks at me with a forlorn and distant look. He may be sitting right there in the driver's seat as we all pile into the backseat and speed off down the road, but his eyes are vacant, miles away. Oh sure, he snaps back to attention every few seconds to, you know, steer and everything, but he's on another planet. A planet I'm pretty sure has something to do with me. Maybe everything.

"Spence, where are we going?" I ask for the thirty sixth time. We are still driving along. It's still dreary and rainy Seattle, I still have no answers, but something is different.

The tension.

We've been driving in silence for an hour when suddenly Sam begins bawling. Literally, she's sobbing on to Freddie's shoulder. WHAT?

Sam hates Freddie with a passion yet she's crying like he's always been an old and cherished friend. Well, we have a lot of history together, but he's in no way to her cherished. Ok, it's official. The world makes absolutely no sense. I mean, Sam being tolerable? It's all downhill from here.

"Sam?" I'm afraid of what this means. Do I dare ask her? Yes. She's my best friend. I'm sure if there were some rulebook, this would be rule #1.

"Sammie, what's wrong? Tell me!" I can't keep the anxiety away. It's always been there but it has nothing to hide it, like a zit relies on concealer. I know, I know. Just ignore that last part.

Sam shivers, her whole body quaking with her like a solid 7.0 on the Richter scale. An earthquake I've caused and can't put an end to. Is it really my fault?

_Just remember, Starvation is control. Control is tough. Bones are-_

Shut up Ana! I can't deal with her at the moment. I need to cling to something besides Ana for the moment, I need to know that my best friend is still my oxygen when I need her to be.

"Car- Carly…. Pl- Please…" Sam stutters. She struggles to complete the sentence as both Freddie and Spencer throw her a "Don't give away any vital information" look. I guess it's true. Actions really do speak louder than words. Oh, if only I had known about the irony in that conclusion. If only I had known what lie in store for me when we suddenly rolled to a stop in front of a small red brick building. It was plain and boring, nothing special about it. Something easy to overlook and never notice unless you were looking hard for it.

"Please don't be mad. We did this for you." Sam tries to explain before dissolving into fresh tears once more.

"I promise, Sammie. What is it?" I lean over to give her a comforting hug but Freddie pins my arms behind my back and says, "Come on, Carls. Let's all just get out of the car and everyone can calm down." He speaks carefully as if afraid he'll set me off if he says the wrong thing.

I hesitate but nod and quietly slide out behind Freddie with Sam brining up the rear. Spencer slams the car door on his side and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself first. Then he casts a reassuring glance in my direction. "It's gonna be ok, kiddo." He hasn't called me that since I was seven years old.

I am not seven years old.

_Then stop acting like it, little girl._ Ana is back in a raging temper brought on by our unexpected trip. She knows no more than I do. That frightens me more than anything else.

"Spencer, what is this place?" I ask, trying to act mature and not like an inferior, second-rate child.

Spencer cringes. "A place that is going to help you… I think."

"Just trust us." Freddie adds. His already tight grip on my wrists increases.

My heart is racing, my head is pounding, I feel excluded and out of the loop. What's happening to me? Am I about to faint all over again? In front of the three people I care most about, that would do wonders for Ana and me.

We all walk up to the building and Spencer opens the glass doors with shaking hands. I am hit by an arctic blast of cold air. That is the first thing that seems out of place. Why is it so cold?

We saunter quickly through a maze of hallways before arriving at a front desk. A young perky blond woman is sitting there, typing away with long fake nails, painted a hideous shade of mustard yellow.

Spencer jerked his chin in sort of greeting. I scoffed. Guys.

"May I help you?" She pasted a wide smile at us.

"Yes, we're here for the class at 4:00. It's for…." He peered at me out of the corner of his eye and mouthed the rest to her like he didn't want me to hear.

Her eyes widened and suddenly took an interest in me. She eyed my thin figure. Well, that was what everyone said but I didn't believe a word of it. How could I? I had only lost a measly fifteen lbs. That wasn't much.

_You've accomplished nothing, Carly. _

I sighed. According to Ana, it only counted when you lost twenty five pounds. Then she would be happy. Not satisfied, though. Oh no, never satisfied. But it was a start.

_Always room for improvement, no matter what anyone says. _Ana reminds cheerfully. She's in a much better mood. I envy her and her perfect figure. No one ever said life was fair. But you can always strive for perfection. At least, according to Ana and the Pro Ana websites I've visited.

"Yes, you're right on time. It's around the corner and straight through the door on your left." She appeared to remember something suddenly. "Oh, I'm afraid I'll need you to fill out a few forms. The first payment must be presented upfront. Sorry. That's just the way it is." She flashes an apologetic smile at Spencer.

"Uh, no prob. Hey, I'll just pick Carly up when it's over in a couple hours. You two go ahead and take Carly to…. Where she needs to go, alright?"

Sam and Freddie dutifully nodded determinedly.

"Not until you tell me where we are and why we're here." I snarled.

Sam flinched and stepped back as if I'd slapped her. The beast in me was returning, clawing it's way to the surface.

_Get out of here. NOW!_ Ana seethes desperately. She sounds frightened, worried. She knows something I don't. Clearly she has recognized whatever place this is… and fears it.

"I'm leaving!" I say through gritted teeth with as much fury as I can muster. If Ana knows and hates this place, good enough for me. I'm not sticking around to find out why. Besides, I haven't forgotten all the punishments Ana is capable of giving if I don't cooperate.

Yet here I am, observing the room confusedly. It's a plain, small room, painted white. The wooden floor seems normal enough, but the walls. Oh, the walls. They are bare except for a poster tacked up here and there. The posters are the most horrifying of all. Each one has a colorful picture of either pizza, cheeseburgers, french fries, or ice cream. Above these hideous images are the words: Eat instead of defeat!

I shake my head, hoping this is all a bad dream Ana is just showing me as punishment for something I subconsciously did. Oh, please no. No, no,no,no,NO.

Sam and Freddie are backing away slowly towards the door. They keep their eyes trained on me and their muscles are tensed as if they're expecting to wrestle me to the ground to stop me from making a run for it.

They're not completely wrong, either. I would if I could. I now know what this place is, what is stands for. Nothing, not even my wildest nightmares, could have prepared me for this. The place Ana is so scared of. It might mean defeat for me, for her.

This prison is an anorexic anonymous center. They're trying to help me, cure me.

They're trying to kill me.


	8. Chapter 7: The Taste of Death

Chapter 7: The Taste of Death

"Welcome, all. For the next two months, we will be learning about the risks and consequences of anorexia and bulimia, our feelings and what might have led to this unfortunate dilemma, and most importantly, we will be practicing better eating habits then what we're all used to."

I roll my eyes at Mrs. Hammond's fake smile. Or maybe it's real. Maybe she really does enjoy spending her free time with girls who starve themselves on a regular basis. Who knows?

A quick observation of the room reveals that I'm not the only one who feels this way. The other girls (there are five of us) are all giving her dubious stares with raised eyebrows.

A word about our Group leader before we continue: Mrs. Hammond is an overweight, overly cheerful person who probably has, like, forty cats and always says things like, "splendid" and "dearie". I can just see her at home after today's get together. She'll be in a tiny apartment, stroking her felines' fur and feeding them musty and stale, tasteless cat food. Can you say creepy cat hoarder?

Mrs. Hammond just pretends not to see them and gestures for all of us to have a seat in one of the six yellow chairs around us. They are all positioned in a small circle facing each other. Seriously, what is with this place and yellow? It's not _that_ cheerful a color. I can't help but eye the colorful (what else) yellow brochures in her hands. This is going to be a long two hours.

"Hi, Cassidy…." We all murmur dryly. Mrs. Hammond is making us state our names and share a little bit about our 'struggles with eating disorders'. As if.

Cassidy, a slightly older looking girl with various streaks of lavender, electric blue, and lime green amongst the dark brunette hair she has pulled back in a long silky ponytail, smirks at us. She is the fourth girl so far to tell about herself. After her, it's only me. I can't wait.

"Um, ok. I'm Cassidy Waldorf. I've been a bulimic for almost two years now. I guess it all started when my parents divorced and my mom and I moved to Seattle to 'start over' and all that. Honestly, I hate this stupid city and all its rain. I miss California and more than anything, I do not want to be here. This is a waste of time. You think you can cure us? You don't know the first thing about cured."

She is met with stunned and appreciative silence. Mrs. Hammond appears to be arguing with herself over something while the rest of us are all nodding in respectfulness and admiration.

I feel some sort of truth to what she is saying. What do these people really know about cured? There's cured, and then there's taking a break. Yeah, sure, we could all walk away from this joint two months from now with no desire to starve ourselves. But what about in four or five months? Are we all still going to feel cured when we walk past a stranger in the hall who is so much skinnier than we are? We'll be right back to where we started. We can't hope to be cured. This, come to think of it, isn't necessarily a bad thing.

_You don't know what they are capable of. _Ana is still concerned, and with good reason. I'd better keep my guard up if I want to walk out of here a winner. Anorexia is an allie, not a foe.

_I had a hole in my heart, so I threw away my plate. Because nothing filled me up, no matter what I ate._

Oh, Ana is back. Finally! I missed her little Pro-Ana quotes she knew and always repeated over and over in my mind until I had them memorized by heart and could chant along with her during my daily exercise routine. These quotes gave me strength to continue doing what I did so frequently, gave me the push I needed. This one was new. One I had never heard before. It was interesting, so very, very true.

_I'm your butter, Carly. I'm your bread .I'll take you in and fill you up, with lack of being fed. _

Huh. Usually she doesn't offer more than one at a time. But I'm not complaining. I'll take whatever inspiration I can get.

"Well, thank you, Cassie, dear. That was very… insightful." Mrs. Hammond moves on to the next victim- excuse me, person.

Yep, you guessed it. Yours Truly.

"Hi, I'm Carly Shay. You know, from iCarly. I- I guess- I'm not here for any special reason. I just want to be thinner. I really don't need your help. Ana is helping me." I gasp at that last part. Oh no. They aren't supposed to know about Ana. No one is. No one can.

Mrs. Hammond's face lights up like the stars in Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night painting. She gets this proud glint in her eye, and I can tell she thinks this is huge progress before she opens her mouth and confirms my suspicions.

"Ha! That, girls, is why you are here! Who here is familiar with Ana, or perhaps Mia? Don't be shy."

Slowly a couple of the older girls, including Cassie, raise their hands. Then they all do. Naturally.

"Oh, excellent job Carly! Your perceptiveness has been very helpful. Alright, I think that just about wraps up our Sharing and Caring for today. Let's move on to something a bit more challenging, shall we?"

We all exchange nervous looks. What does she mean by that? All around the room, girls are shrugging and gripping the edge of their chairs hard as if to brace themselves for whatever horror is about to be unleashed upon us. I'm just praying it isn't anything dumb like making us eat a cookie or a piece of pie or something like that.

Why do I have to be right so often?

"Stay seated, girls." Mrs. Hammond's tone makes me understand why she was chosen for this position of authority. She's all kittens and cheerful on the surface, but when she needs to be she can become rough and powerful in the blink of an eye, with the same intensity that Ana is always so quick to reprimand me.

"Please! I'll do anything else. Please!" Sarah is begging, groveling on her knees with hands folded and wide eyed. No lie.

"Get up, Miss Ackerman. I will have none of that in my Group session." She turns and gives all of us a hard stare as if daring us to question her. "You will _all _eat it." She stares us down a moment longer just in case the need to chastise comes.

I stare fixated on the door as it is pulled open and two men and one woman enter. They are all wearing yellow velour track suits. Ok, I officially hate yellow now.

The three people entering are-I can't hold back a diminutive shudder- carrying boxes of large cheese _pizza_. The strong aroma of tomato sauce fills the room. Girls are coughing and pressing hands to their mouths so as not to breathe in that tantalizing scent.

Mrs. Hammond breathes in deeply. "Mmm. Doesn't that smell simply alluring?"

I catch a whiff of the pizza and have to hold back a moan. This will surely be the death of me. Oh, but death smells so good. Why? It certainly shouldn't.

Mrs. Hammond offers me a piece. I shake my head vigorously like a bobble head but she keeps presenting me with a fresh slice. Finally she gets fed up and thrusts the slice into my cold hands.

The cheese is so gooey, so hot and still melted. It's like heaven. Maybe I could eat it… something that smells and looks that appealing can't be all bad.

_Nothing tastes as good as thin feels!_ Ana says. She is circling my chair slowly like a wolf waiting for just the right moment to attack its prey. Me.

Her piercing blue eyes bore into my skull and I am about to resist when Mrs. Hammond grabs my wrist with her thick fingers and brings the pizza up to my mouth. I have no choice but to bite off the tiniest microscopic section.

The feeling is different than I expected. Oh sure, I eat an energy bar or a bowl of fruit for breakfast in the morning. Sometimes a cup of hot tea, because you have to have something in your stomach to kick start the metabolism. But this is not the same. It feels good and so wrong in the same instant. I feel as powerful as I imagine Ana to be and as weak as a kitten all at once. I swallow and nearly choke, gagging and coughing as the sliver slides roughly down my throat. No going back.

Some of the other girls seem to have no problem eating the pizza. The bulimics, of course. They think they'll just make up an excuse to saunter off to the bathroom and then throw it all up. Idiots. Don't they know that this place, with its red brick walls and steely cold atmosphere, would never allow it? They know all our tricks, all our games. I never expected this. Ana was right. Ana is always right.

"Please, no more." I gasp as they hold a second slice out to me. But I stand my ground. I will not eat any more. The reality has sunk in now. Pizza. Horrible, disgusting pizza that wants to kill me. The taste of death may taste heavenly, but it's merely a disguise to hide its true colors. Death by pizza. What a way to go, what a way to go.


	9. Chapter 8: Game Of Chance

Chapter 8: Game Of Chance

Over the next two months, my life became a game of chance. It was all a tossup between Ana and ABA (Anorexia and Bulimics Anonymous).

I was struggling to keep my grades up, struggling to listen to Ana's advice. She pushed me harder than ever, so strong was her fear of losing me to that death Group. She needed control, lived for it, and accepted nothing less. I craved her giving it to me. We're the perfect pair.

But with ABA, my dreams are back now that the nightmares don't come as often. I don't have to be as vigilant about what I eat, how much I exercise. The constant game is growing tired, I am growing weaker.

ABA says I'm getting stronger. They say I'm making real progress every time I swallow another bite of that horrid pizza, or=on occasion- a cupcake.

ABA is lying.

But why do I do this to myself? Why do I listen to Ana? It's simple math. Another quote I learned from Ana. She's got so many lately.

_Anorexia is like a game: You play, you win, and then it's over._

_Or you keep playing until you lose. _

Yeah. I don't plan on losing. I stepped on that scale this morning and it read 79. For once I wasn't scared and angry with myself because of the number it read. I've always felt that the scale was a force to be reckoned with, a cold and evil enemy. Now, it is a comforting friend, much like Ana.

I think I'm going crazy.

"Carly?" Jenny's voice is soft and gentle. It's barely a whisper yet it manages to penetrate the cold wall that surrounds me, drags me down into nothing.

"What!" I snap back to attention suddenly and scramble to get up from my bedroom floor. Oh, why couldn't she have just let the darkness come and take me to someplace where cold doesn't exist….

"Carly, you can't do this."

I let the words process for a moment. Well, at least she doesn't beat around the bush. She gets right to the point.

"What can't I do?" My words cut through the silence like a white-hot knife sliding into a tub of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.

Ana is my butter. Ana is my bread. She'll take me in and fill me up with lack of being fed.

"Carly, where were you the other day? Your friends said you were off 'getting help'."

I shrug. "Yeah, maybe I was. The Group sessions ended yesterday and now I'm free. Ana didn't let ABA trick me with their little meetings and overuses of yellow.

I had fooled them all. Whenever they brought disgusting, fattening foods in to us-which always happened after we discussed our "feelings"-they would force me to take whatever it was they were serving that day and eat it.

But I didn't. Of course, I put it in my mouth and they saw me chew it. But class was dismissed twenty minutes after we had finished eating (to give the food time to digest so bulimics couldn't, well, binge and then purge.)

So when I was told to leave, I did. I would walk slowly and calmly to the door like I had no place to hurry off to. I took my sweet time leaving.

But when I was a couple blocks away, I found the nearest trash can or public restroom where I spit out the food.

No, it was no bulimia. It was simply me never swallowing the food. The trick was to only eat a little so it looked like you had eaten without making your cheeks bulge out. Those ABA people were idiots. They thought that just because they witnessed me putting food in my mouth that I was on my way to recovery? Ha. As if.

"What's your real name?" I ask her while avoiding the subject.

Jenny sighs. "Jennette Plumeria Walker. Plumeria is a type of flower." She says quickly before I can open my mouth to ask that question.

"Oh. It's pretty." I say stupidly. And truthfully, I do think it is. But I don't elaborate anymore. I have a feeling she doesn't want me to.

"So you're cured?" A faint glow of hope lights up her pretty features. Like a Plumeria.

I laugh, but it comes out brittle and humorless. "Sure, let's go with that."

Jenny's glow dims. "You know, I've always wanted to be like you. You were my role model."

Were? Does that mean I'm a loser to her now? The thought surprisingly makes me want to punch something. Like Sam when she found out those fish sticks was just a typo error on the cafeteria menu and today's lunch was really fish _nuggets_. Oh and believe me, it made a difference to her.

"That's… sweet, Jen."

She snickers. "Not really. The truth is, I wish I were you. You and I even share a secret together."

I sink back down onto the nest of pillows and blankets I've made myself. All I want is to be wrapped in that cocoon once more. Caterpillars wind themselves tighter until they are beautiful butterflies with breathtaking works of art for wings.

I'd like to do that. Just stay in my cocoon until _I_ am worthy of being seen, beautiful bones and all.

"What secret?" I'm dying to know. Literally dying even if no one knows it yet.

Jenny shakes her head. "Can't tell you… yet. But maybe I will when you get better." She chuckles and turns back around.

I grope for the doorknob when she leaves. Everyone leaves, it seems.

_Not me. _Ana is leaning against the door, blocking it. I can't open it when she's there blowing a sickeningly sweet pink bubble the size of my head.

Ana snaps her gum and smiles her best Aren't-I-So-Superior smile.

My head feels light all of a sudden. I can't breathe. Ok, that's scary. I. Can't. Breathe.

Spencer. He can help me. "Spen-"

_Shut up and listen. Don't call Spencer. Just embrace it._

I so desperately want to call out to someone, beg them to help me. I think I'm fainting again, collapsing on the spot. No. Please not again. Oh, please.

Ana watches me with her acute eyes the color of ice. Cold and blue sums it up perfectly. Is she frozen from the inside too?

"Spencer!" I cry out as the pain gets so much worse. It leaves my skin tingling and clammy; the little sparks that hurt me are like fireworks. Their bright and intense display hits me full force in the chest, knocking me backwards off my feet and sending me tumbling into a stack of CDs. I can't get up, can't hope to call out for help anymore.

I lay there like a fish out of water, gasping for the air to fill my lungs. Begging it with my mind. Making deals with it. Oh please let it end let it end let it end. I'll do anything, I'll do anything!

But it doesn't stop.


	10. Chapter 9: The Noose Tightens

Chapter 9: The Noose Tightens

"Her condition isn't something that can be fixed with group therapy sessions. She's worsening at a rapid pace and-"

"Tell me how to fix her!" Spencer interrupts irritably. His skin is flushed.

Mine is so much paler, luminescent even.

I'm thinking about how beautiful my bones finally are when the doctor, a pretty African American woman with creamy brown skin and a smile full of pearly white teeth that shine like the moon, glances over at me before speaking.

"You need professionals. I know you don't want to leave her, be away from her, but you're kind of limited on options." Her accent is like spoken music, trilling and fascinating.

Spencer gulps. "Are- are you sure she has…?"

"Anorexia? Oh, I know the signs when I see them. Look at her hair." She-despite my protests-grabs a handful of my brittle hair and yanks it. Hard.

"OW! Hey, what are you doing?" I yelp in pain. I wrench the chunk of hair out of her soft hands but not before she pulls out a few long strands.

"See? You're hair is breaking. It's dry and falling out. I can get a prescription for that, though. It will help but not solve it completely."  
She turns to Spencer and fixes him with a hard accusing glare. "This is mostly your fault, you know. This has gotten way out of hand and I know you're only her brother and still pretty young yourself, but that's no excuse."

Spencer clears his throat and blinks a few times to hold back the tears that are forming at the corners of his eyes. I made Spencer cry?

"I-I know. Please Dr. Hudson, I'll do whatever it takes. Where do I-"

"Uh, let's continue this conversation in the hallway. I'm sure you don't want Carly to get too frazzled in her current state."

They step out into the hallway and pull the door shut behind them. My eyes scan the room as I take in my surroundings.

A normal doctor's office, to be expected. Spencer brought me here after I fainted and he found me lying on my bedroom floor unconscious.

Right now, I'm laying psychiatric-style across a plain white couch with my head propped up on an old musty smelling, blue and white striped pillow. The dizziness is gone. For now. But that awful feeling lingers…. The feeling like a noose has been slipped around my neck and is slowly tightening; choking me… like back in the 1900's when they hung people as punishment. Is this mine?

I hoist myself straight up and strain to hear the voices talking lowly right outside the door. Spencer and have stopped talking. I can see the shadows in front of the frosted glass.

Spencer's silhouette sags slightly. Another word or two is exchanged. Then silence.

Ana, tell me what to do. Tell me how to get out of this! Spencer is going to send me away…

_No he won't_.

He won't? Why?

_For the same reason he hasn't gotten rid of you since your eating disorder first began._

He can't handle it. He'd miss me too much and give in to me if I begged him to let me stay. I'm not worried. Ana has reassured me. Ana's word is law, never deceiving and _never_ wrong.

Spencer isn't strong. Not like me.

"Uh, ok. You'll need more than just a couple of T-shirts and jeans, Carls." Spencer tells me as I present him with my suitcase it had taken me all of five minutes to pack.

More than enough for two days? My stomach felt queasy. "Fine, I'll pack _five_ shirts. Will that make you happy?

"Carly…"

"What? How long am I going to be gone, huh?" I'm still not convinced he's really going through with this. No, I'm positive he'll chicken out.

"Two and a half months. I'm sorry. Just….go pack more clothes and-never mind. I'll do it."

"Spencer, wait! Two months? This joke has gone too far!" My voice raises a few octaves. My hysterical laughter as a pathetic attempt to brush this new information off like it's no big deal sounds like a psychopath's.

I rush after Spencer who has already disappeared up the stairs and into my room. He slides my drawers open and dumps out the _entire_ contents into the pink and black zebra striped suitcase.

"Stop, put it back!" I beg but he won't listen. He's on a roll now, flinging pairs of jeans, shorts, camisoles, and penny Ts in as well.

My room looks like a tornado hit it. Articles of leftover clothing are strewn across the floor everywhere but not for long. Spencer collects them all and adds them to the growing pile in the suitcase. Then he packs a few of my favorite books in a tote bag with the iCarly logo on it. Last year's birthday gift from Freddie.

"Spencer?" I don't know what I want to say after I get his attention. Maybe that's all I wanted.

His eyes have taken on that vacant look I hate so much.

"Say goodbye to Ana, Carly."


	11. Chapter 10: Paselle Prison

Paserelle Prison

Author's Note: Just so there's no confusion with the title, Paserelle Prison means Masqueraded Prison in French. This chapter's title (chapter 10) is in French because a new girl is introduced in this story but that's all I'm going to reveal. I hope that helps. Thank you so much for following me this far! I LOVE getting reviews and comments from all of you.

"Spencer, please. I promise I'll go back to ABA. I'll even eat three meals a day if you want!" I know that sounds like the normal amount, but I've been sticking with one and _sometimes_ two.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo." Spencer keeps saying that over and over again. To be honest, it's getting really annoying. I'm half tempted to just shout, "I know you're sorry! Say something else and give it a rest, will ya?" Yeah, but I won't. No need to add fuel to the already burning flames.

"Spence…"

Spencer takes one last look at me before placing a hand on the taxi cab he's about to climb into. I still cringe at the sight of yellow. "I'll be back tomorrow to see how you're doing, ok?"

No. This can't be happening. He really is leaving? No, no, no! He can't be because that would mean…

Ana.

Was.

Wrong.

"You can't leave me here!" I scream at him, the tears that I've back for the entire flight here streaming down my face. "PLEASE!"

Spencer threw one arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. I inhaled the strong scent of his cologne and wished more than anything else in the world that things could stay this way forever. Unmoving, unchanging, him never leaving. His tears mixing with mine as we both just stood there sobbing, him enveloping me in a warm embrace. But all things must come to an end.

"Come back! COME BACK!" I angrily struggle against the nurse that holds me back. Spencer kisses me once more on my forehead before the taxi cab speeds off again, probably to his hotel. He'll be on his way to Seattle again tomorrow…. without me.

"NO! GET OFF OF ME, LET GO!" I'm howling my indignation but it's no use.

The nurse shouts something out and soon two more descend on me like vultures circling overhead, waiting for me to die so they can pick my bones clean….

My brain goes into overdrive, kicking, screaming at the top of my lungs, thrashing wildly against the two pairs of arms that are trying desperately to hold me down. Wait a minute. Two? I thought there were three.

I soon find the answer to my unspoken question. The third nurse turns around to face me and gripped firmly in her hands is a long, wicked sharp needle that looks like it could go straight through me.

I'm screaming and wrestling against the other two as the nurse grabs my right arm with her icy cold hands, her long fingernails digging into the skin that just barely covers my beautiful bones.

She stabs the needle in my forearm then and a pain like I've never known races through my veins. What have they done to me? Oh, I'm going to die here…. right now, this is it, this is it.

My mind slows down and my vision goes fuzzy and, just like last time, the awful nothingness buries me from all angles.

Ana.

Was.

Wrong.

Those words echoe through my skull and penetrate my rib cage, my heart. Oh, everything I've ever known is gone. Sam. Freddie. Spencer. Jenny. I'd even wish for Sara Goldman now. But there is nothing. Nothing but those evil nurses in their crisp white uniforms. Spencer has left me here to die.

I can either allow them to fatten me up like a pig slated for slaughter, or I can slowly rot away with time. Either way, I have lost, Ana has lost, and there is no way out.

"Carly?" Someone is calling my name.

"Spencer?" My words are slurred and I don't recognize my own voice.

"No, this is Hazel. You're safe now, sweetie."

I blink. Oh, right. It all comes flooding back to me in that instant. I'm in St. Louis, Missouri. This is Castlewood. The anorexia treatment facility I'll be spending the next two and a half months in. Good thing school ended last week for summer vacation.

"You killed me." I mumble sleepily. But even as I say the words, injecting as much ice into them as I can, I know it's not true. I'm obviously alive… but where?

My eyes fly open and I immediately see a young Japanese woman with flowing jet black hair and big almond shaped eyes the color of hazelnut coffee. Yeah, must be where her name came from.

"Where am I?" I look around the room and see nothing but shades of white except for the tray next to my bed containing a few razor sharp and sci-fi looking instruments. The kind used for operating on a patient, or maybe a mad scientist. "WHERE-"

"Calm down, Carly. You're safe. We had to give you something to make you sleep because you were kicking up quite a commotion. Are you feeling better?"

"No thanks to you." I snarl.

Hazel sighs. "Come on, then. I'll show you to your room."

I have no choice but to follow her since my alternative is staying in that room with those horrible torture devices. Which one would you pick? That's what I thought.

"You'll have two roommates who I think you will get along very well with. Their names are Isabella Prentiss, an American like you, and also Joy Ducleaux, a French girl who uh, speaks no English unfortunately."

I gawk at her in disbelief. "I don't speak French! How am I supposed to talk to her?"

Hazel's eyes laughed at me, but not like Ana's had when we would sit and look at magazines together of those skinny models that looked like mere skeletons with a thin covering of skin and Ana would always comment on how unlike them I was.

Hazel was different, kind and generous. She was thin herself, but not supermodel thin. Just thin enough for it to be a normal and healthy weight. Mine evidently wasn't.

I had come to believe over these last few weeks based on what I saw in the mirror-and what Ana told me- that I was now skinny like her. It was wonderful, all my hard work paying off. But I had never been more tired, never been quicker to faint. That happened all the time now. My hair wasn't falling out as much because of that doctor after my latest fainting episode, but my fingernails had an unnatural bluish tint to them. I was constantly reapplying nail polish to keep that covered up.

"Don't worry. Isabella speaks fluent French. She's offered to help you, be a kind of tutor."

I groan reluctantly. More schoolwork.

"Here we are." Hazel pushes open the door that leads into a small but cozy looking room. The walls are painted bright red and the floor is a kind of mosaic tile. Pretty, but odd.

"Why is it-"

"It has been scientifically proven that red helps to stimulate eating." Hazel interrupts, guessing what I'm going to say before I can finish. Huh. I guess a lot of people ask that at first.

"Bella!" Hazel calls out. "Carly is finally here. I want you to get her up to speed on all of the basics. Maybe show her what her daily schedule will look like." Hazel suggests as a girl with red hair walks over to us casually. And no, not natural colored red hair. Red like a red velvet cupcake.

I gaped at her but she just laughed amusedly. "Yeah, it's pretty crazy, right? My mom made me dye it this color."

I gasped. "Your mom did?"

Bella shrugged self-consciously. "Yeah, she found out that red makes people wanna eat more-her eyes flickered to the paint on the walls-and she… well, she tricked me. She told me we were going to go see a movie but instead we wound up at the salon and before I knew it, my sandy brown hair was history."

"Uh, ok." I say stupidly. I just can't believe a mother would do that just because she wanted to cure her daughter of her anorexia. Talk about taking it to the extreme.

Hazel chuckled. "I never get tired of hearing that story. Anyway, I'll leave you alone with your new roommates. Lunch is in exactly five minutes, so don't be late. Remember what happened last time?" Hazel warned mysteriously before ominously pulling the door shut behind her.

I felt my eyebrows furrow. "What happened last time?"

Bella grabbed my wrist and pulled me further into the room. "Never mind that. You don't wanna know."

She led me over to the far side of the room on the left side where two bunk beds were positioned. "You'll have to sleep on the bottom bunk", she told me with a wily grin. "The top one is mine."

I slung my suitcase onto the bed, listening to Bella's promises to help me unpack later. I noticed how everything was made of glass so we couldn't hide anything. Can you say paranoid?

"Uh, hey, Joy? I'm Carly, from iCarly, and I just wanted to say hi." My eyes landed on Joy, the French girl. She was sitting at one of the three desks in the corner of the room, drawing. Were the French artists? Images of the Eiffel Tower flashed through my mind.

Joy looked up and grinned. Her long brown hair, darker than even mine, was pulled back into a tight bun atop her head. "J'aime iCarly! Ravi de vous rencontrer." She stuck out one manicured hand (French manicured, of course) for me to shake. I think.

"Um, what?" I looked cluelessly at Bella for answers. "What did she say?" I was terrified it was going to be something about how she thought iCarly was lame or worse, that _I_ was lame.

"J'aime iCarly means that she loves iCarly. And Ravi de vous rencontrer means _Nice to meet you._" Bella's voice took on an awkward imitation of a French accent that was far from Joy's but I loved it anyway.

Then, to Joy, I replied, "Thank you so much. We love getting comments from fans."

Joy beamed at me before going back to whatever she was sketching in her pink spiral notebook.

"Wait a minute. Can Joy understand English?" I asked Bella as we opened the dresser drawers and began unpacking my things.

Bella nodded her confirmation. "Yes, but she can't speak it. I know it seems kinda weird, but just go with it."

Okaaay. Sure. A foreign language barrier was bad enough. I didn't need an entire country hating me. Ok, I know, I know. France wouldn't make me a public enemy if I didn't get along with Joy, but that didn't stop me from imagining myself being kicked out of a French restaurant while I was eating a croissant.

Not that I would ever even _dream_ about touching a croissant. Too many carbs! Bread has so much fat in it, it's almost funny. Almost.

"Did Hazel say that _lunch_ was starting soon?" I shuddered at the thought. "They actually make us eat here?"

Bella nodded grimly. "It's worse than that. It's not just breakfast, lunch, and dinner." She had been kneeling on her hands and knees like me, but now she got up and walked over to the wall near the door. There was a sheet of paper tacked to it, a list, that I had missed when I'd first come in.

Bella tapped it gently with one finger. It had every day of the week on it, divided up into columns. "This is our daily schedule. See? We start out with breakfast every morning at 7 in the morning to 7:30. Then we have Core Group." She paused for a moment. "Have you ever-"

I nodded. "Yes, ABA for a couple months."

Bella nodded sympathetically. "Core Group is like that. And then there's this thing called Blind Weighing. They make us turn around so we can't see the scale while they weigh us. It's really annoying because you never know if you've gained a hundred pounds or just one." She laughed. I didn't find it as funny.

"What's next?" I'm curious to see everything I'll be up against.

Bella didn't need to look at the list, but she did anyway before answering, "Snack break." Then, to my horrified face, she added, "Get used to it. There's three snack breaks every day. You'll be eating _at least_ four meals per day.

"At least?" I squeaked. So much for one or two. "Can't I just not eat the snacks they offer us?"

The answer is written all over Bella's face:

N.

O.


	12. Chapter 11: Cold Hands, Warm Heart

**Chapter 11: Cold Hands, Warm heart**

"Que deux jours." Joy said as we took a seat in the cafeteria. Long wooden table stretched out in front of me. I had been here for so many weeks, time was just a blur. My life back home seemed like a dream, and I no longer counted the days left. How much longer would this torture continue?

"What are you saying? Joy, I love you and all, but maybe _you_ should learn English. It's really hard to be friends when I can't talk to you!" I fumed. I was fed up with Castlewood and everyone in it.

Bella sighed sympathetically. "Don't go psycho now, Carls. Joy was saying that there's only two days left. Then we're all going home! Haven't you been studying?" We'd become such good friends in the months I had been here. I loved them both with all my heart. It pained me to disappoint them like this.

Ugh. Learning French was so hard. Of course I tried to understand, but it was still just a jumble of words that sounded made up and perplexing. There was no hope for me.

The worst part? I was gaining weight still! The evil Castlewood staffs was trying to fatten me up like a pig slated for slaughter. I felt trapped. There was no way out. It was almost like I couldn't breathe…

"I have to get out of here! NOW! I can't wait two days! I-can't-breathe!" I jumped up from the table, abandoning the chocolate chip cookie in front of me. They gave us snacks three times a day, and expected us to eat them. And then there was breakfast, lunch, _and_ dinner. It was all just too much.

"AGGGGHHH!" I shrieked as I sank to my knees. My heart was hammering away in my chest, trying to break free. Maybe this time it really would. Maybe then I would finally be free of this horrible body I was forced to live inside…

"Carly! What's wrong?" Hazel asked, leaning down beside me and stroking my hair. I shook her off. She held my hand and tried to comfort me while I screamed and screamed. Her hands were ice cold.

I remembered a saying my father had once told me before he'd joined the military. _Cold hands, warm heart._ I had pondered over what it meant for days until I finally figured it out. If your hands were cold, you're heart must be warm. It meant you were a kind person.

But even Hazel couldn't help me now.

"My heart…" My heart was flopping around inside my chest that suddenly felt tight. It hurt and I think my heart was physically moving somewhere underneath my ribs. That was scary. My heart was _moving._

Icy panic races through my veins and it takes everything ounce of control I've got not to cry out again. My head feels like it's going to split apart any second now. Breathing is impossible; my chest is falling apart inside of me….

I wanted to tell Bella and Joy that I was sorry. Maybe I would never see them again. I had never wanted this to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen. I only wanted to be thinner. This can't be happening...

I only wanted to be thinner.

**X**

"I'm sorry. But there's just no way we can save her. I'm not Superman." A man was saying. I didn't recognize his voice. I didn't even know my own name anymore.

"Please! I will do anything. I will _pay_ anything. Name a price. I'll do it. You can't dismiss her like this! She's going to…" Spencer breaks off and I think he's laughing. No, wait. Crying. Spencer is crying.

_You're causing them all so much pain, little girl. You're weak. You're pathetic._

My eyes fly open and I bolt straight up in bed. I'm restrained from moving by several wires and tubes sticking out of my wrists and connecting me to machines. I'm in a hospital. There's no other explanation for it. Next to the bed where I'm lying lifelessly, a machine is beeping. A green line goes up and down on the screen.

Ana. She's back! MY heart soars for a moment, then plummets down into my ribcage in a death spiral. Ana is back. What does this mean? The whole time I was locked away inside the walls of Castlewood, slowly rotting away, she was absent. She had left me, abandoned me. Sealed my fate. Now she had returned to criticize once more. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Oh, Ana, where were you when I needed you?

**X**

I was dismissed from the hospital two days later. Spencer told me it was because I was better now, and everything was fine.

My brother was a liar.

He didn't know I had heard them discussing me. He hadn't even known I was awake. Well, I wasn't about to tell him what I knew. I would prove him wrong. I would get better for _real_ just to show them they had been wrong about Carly Shay.

I would live. I had to.

"Where's Jenny?" I asked on Wednesday at lunch. We were in the school cafeteria. Sam was attacking a BLT, Freddie was devouring a corndog, and I was eating…yep, you guess it. Nothing.

I had meant what I'd said about getting better, but I had to start off with something simpler than eating. Eating seemed unnatural to me now. It was so hard to force the food down my throat. But oh, how I had tried. I had forced myself to eat the salmon and mixed veggies Spencer had prepared for dinner. He had watched me with reproachful eyes, staying silent while I gagged on the fish.

But I hadn't been able to stop myself from throwing it all up in the safety of my bathroom, that night. I wasn't a bulimic, I had never been able to force myself to gag willingly. I could never bring myself to stick to fingers down my throat like some girls did. But that night, I did. It frightened me. Anorexia was my key to freedom. Bulimia was a monster, an unfamiliar term I had never even considered.

Ana and Anorexia were a packaged deal. But Mia and Bulimia were…something else entirely. Something scary I didn't want to continue. But I didn't know how to stop.

I was too far gone.

Now Freddie and Sam looked up at me. Tears were shining brightly in Sam's deep blue eyes. It was probably because she had been begging me to eat, pleading desperately. I wouldn't listen. No one controlled me.

_Except for me._ Ana reminded in sing-song tone. Her cheerfulness disgusted me. It wasn't fair. She got to be thin and cheerful while I was huge and miserable. Something had to change.

I wanted to sink into them, and sleep forever. I would never have to worry about anything ever again…

"Jenny Wood? Didn't you get the email that her family-" Freddie cut himself off and stared down at his plate. "Never mind."

I slammed my hand down on the plate. The table vibrated underneath my hand and the half-eaten corndog was knocked from the plastic plate. "Where. Is. Jenny?"

I was getting worried. I had returned to school two days ago, barley suppressing my excitement at seeing Jenny. I would finally learn her secret once and for all. But she hadn't been at school on Monday. Sam thing with Tuesday. I hadn't thought much of it. Everyone got sick once in a while. But now another day had gone by with no sign of the red-haired girl who wasn't the open book she appeared to be.

I had started asking around, seeing if anyone knew where she was. But whenever I got a response, it was always the same thing: Sadness.

People would avert their eyes and hurry away quickly. I was about ready to snap, to go over the edge with my frustration. I wanted answers. For a while now, it seemed I had been teetering between sane and insane. Hunger threatened to drag me down until I was no more. I was half-tempted to let it.

"Carly…you were away. We couldn't tell you." Sam whispered, finally speaking. She swiped furiously at her eyes.

"Jenny died."

**X**

"Now, Carlotta, can you tell me what you were thinking or feeling at the time?" Mr. Wright asked. As the school counselor, he was the one they had sent me to for counseling.

"Shock, at first. Then denial. I didn't want to believe it. Frankly, I still don't think I believe this. She's not gone. You'll see." I turned away from Mr. Wright's pitying eyes that seemed to bore right through my skull. I didn't want his pity. I needed no one's sympathy.

"Jenny Wood died Friday morning, due to a heart attack." Mr. Wright said gently. "She was an anorexic, and she took it too far. She couldn't stop herself from starvation, and the result was death. This is so very much like what you are experiencing, Carlotta."

"It's Carly." I mumbled. I had always hated the name Carlotta. It was stupid, a hideous name. All wrong. Carly, at least, was acceptable. "You're a liar."

Mr. Wright sighed and rubbed his temples. "Why do you say that, Carlot-Carly?"

"Jenny wasn't anorexic. She tried to stop me from starving myself! She wanted me to stop! You're a liar."

Mr. Wright shook his head sadly. "I wish I could tell you she wasn't anorexic. But she truly was. She died because of it. Did she ever tell you that she admired you? She looked up to you, you know."

I managed a simple nod. "I know. She told me."

"Well, It was more than that. She idolized you, strived to be exactly like you. She had struggled with anorexia for two years until she finally stopped. I convinced her to see the error of her ways. I was her counselor, you see. But when she became friends with you, she realized you were still anorexic. She wanted to be like you. So she started starving herself again. It went too far. The poor girl had a heart attack."

"NO!" I pleaded. "Please, she never told me this! I didn't know! I didn't meant to kill anyone." The last part was barely a whisper.

Mr. Wright stared at me accusingly. "Well, you did. You killed Jenny Wood. Are you happy, Carly? Are you going to continue to-"

"AGGGHH! Stop it! Stop it now!" The awful aching in my heart was back. It was stronger now than ever, back with a thirst for vengeance. "How are you doing this?" He was responsible for giving me this horrid tightening of my chest, the way my lungs wouldn't accept air no matter how hard I tried. He had to be.

"Carly? What's wrong?" Mr. Wright leapt to his feet and stare down at me in horror. "Someone call the nurse! She's having a heart attack!"

A heart attack? His words echoed in my head. _She's having a heart attack._ No. I couldn't be. Not again! This had already happened. Two times in one week? No, no, no. Not again, please not again. I just want everything to be normal. I want Jenny alive again. I want to breathe. I want my father to not be in the military anymore. He abandoned us. He deserted me.

_Game over, Carly._

Ana is not my friend at all. She is the enemy, she always has been. She tricked me, and I fell for her games. I listened to her and her advice, thinking she would help me. She had made me thinner. But she's taken away the most precious thing I had. Life.

This is what Ana wanted all along. This is the end. Game over. Ana won.

I lost.

**If you want me to continue this story, leave a review! The fate of this story is in your hands!**


	13. Chapter 12: A Wilted Plumeria

**Chapter 12: A Wilted Plumeria**

"I won't die, Spence. I won't."

But Spencer isn't listening. He's sitting there in that chair next to my hospital bed. He looks so sad all the time.

"When I get out of here, maybe we can-"

"Just stop." Those are the first words he's said in days. "You and I both know it's too late. You're beyond help now. Let's just try to enjoy the last few days we have together."

Something in me snaps. "_Why? _So we can sit here and watch me die? No! I won't stop! I'm going to _live." _

"I'm sorry, kiddo. I really am gonna miss you." Spencer smoothes my dark hair and stops talking again.

My doctor walks in. "Mr. Shay, may I have a moment alone with Carly?" Spencer walks out of the room with his head down. He doesn't even say goodbye.

"How are we feeling today, Carly?" He looks at the machines I'm hooked up to and frowns. "You're heartbeat got a bit high."

I shrug. I don't want to tell him about my outburst at Spencer. "I guess I'm just tired."

The doctor clears his throat. "Then I guess it's time." He reaches over and shuts off the machine. The beeping stops and the room gets quiet.

I know what it all means. He's decided that it's no use. I'm going to die, and he can't save me. He just turned off my LifeSupport. Now I will wait here in this awful place until _it's time. _To die.

"Turn it back on." I whisper. I'm terrified now. That beeping was like hope, telling me that maybe there was a chance. Even if no one else believed it.

The doctor looks at me with pity and disgust. "I'm sorry. Try not to upset yourself. You'll give yourself a heart attack sooner."

I fight to hold back tears. I'm tired of everyone saying sorry. I want to tell him where he can stick his _sorry. _"Help me. _Please. _There has to be some way."

The doctor frowns at me. "You did this to yourself. You have no one else to blame. It's just too late." He turns and starts to leave.

"No!" I shout. I yank the wires out of my wrist and force myself out of bed. I'm too weak to walk, so I crawl across the cold tile. I grab the doctor's ankles and start screaming until a coughing fit begins.

The doctor slowly removes my arms. "You have three days."

Three days left to live.

**X**

I am so very selfish. I make Spencer and Grandad cry. Sam never stops sobbing now. Freddie doesn't come visit me. He hates what I've done.

"Take care of Spencer for me." I tell Sam. She stops crying and looks at me.

"If you would just _eat, _Carly. You could still live!"

I shake my head. "It's too late for me." I can't force myself to do anything now, especially eating. It's all over. I've lost.

_Game over. I win. _

"She's back." I look around the room for Ana. I wish I had never listened to her. But it's all too late. "She's back!"

Sam looks scared. "No one's here. It's ok, Carls. No one is-"

"No! _She _is here! She found me!" Why doesn't Sam understand? She thinks I'm crazy. I can see it in her eyes.

"Doctor! Something's wrong with her!" Sam shouts and runs out of the room. I give up. Why does it matter if Ana is back? I'll be gone soon.

**X**

"No, they have to be Plumerias." Spencer is whispering into his cell phone. He thinks I'm asleep. "She insisted. Please, it's her funeral."

My eyes fly open. Spencer is ordering flowers for my funeral. I've never been so scared in my life. I'm too young to die. I haven't gotten married or gone to college. My life is ending so very fast. It can't be over yet. It's too soon.

"Spencer." I say. He immediately rushes over and holds my hand. He thinks I'm about to die. "I want to say goodbye to a friend." It is so hard to get the words out. I have no energy left. My time is very near now.

Spencer looks confused. "You're too weak."

He's right. I owe so much to Jenny Walker. But she and I both made mistakes we can't fix. "I'm scared."

Spencer squeezes my hand. "So am I, kiddo. But we'll all be together again someday."

The doctor ruined it by rushing in my room. "Do you know a Samantha Puckett?"

Spencer nods. "She's my little sister's best friend. She can come in and say goodbye if she wants." Even my Dad came back to say goodbye. That was all I'd ever wanted.

The doctor held up a piece of paper-a note. I recognized Sam's messy handwriting. "She disappeared an hour ago. Read it."

Spencer's face went pale. "Where?" The doctor looks helpless.

My frustration explodes. "What does it say? Spencer!"

Spencer looks at me grimly. "Sam left. She's going to commit suicide."

**A/N: Don't worry, this isn't the last chapter! There will be one more…so read and review! **


	14. Chapter 13: Out of Time

**Chapter 13: Out of Time**

"Please! You _have _to let me! You know I can bring he-"

"No." Spencer shakes his head. "It's too risky for you. You'll get your heart rate up and give yourself a heart attack!"

Spencer won't let me go find Sam before she commits suicide. He says I shouldn't worry about it, that I need to take care of myself, but how can I? My best friend is going to kill herself because of me.

I look down at the note in Spencer's hand. I've memorized the words but I can't stop reading it. Maybe if I read it enough times I'll wake up from this horrible nightmare.

_Dear Carly,_

_I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you, or make you feel guilty about any of this. But I can't live without you. It's too scary. You've kept me out of trouble and always loved me no matter what. But I know you'll be dead soon, so there's nothing left for me. Tell my mom and Melanie I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. _

_You made me a better person,_

_-Sam _

I don't even realize I'm crying until Spencer wraps his arms around me and soothes me. We both sit there sobbing for a while. Then my doctor comes in.

"We are doing all we can. The police are out looking for her as we speak. She'll be fine." He tells me. Everyone says that. No one believes it.

"You won't find her." I whisper. "You don't know Sam like I do." I close my eyes and lay down. I can't look at these liars anymore.

Spencer squeezes my hand. "Do you…know where she is?"

I keep my eyes closed but nod. "I know her."

Spencer starts crying again. "Ok." Sometimes it's hard to believe he's my brother and not my dad. "Good luck, Kiddo."

**X**

There's an ache inside of me. I feel like I've said goodbye to Spencer for the last time. I probably have. That's why it was so hard for him to let me go.

"Does she have a special place she likes to go to?" A police officer asks. Spencer only agreed after I promised to take an officer with me. Just in case.

I sigh. "She might be at the bridge." Sam has been going there a lot lately. She never tells me why but I know it's special to her. "Let's look there."

I know it's a long shot. Sam could be anywhere in Seattle. But I can't stop looking. Even if it's just to bring back her body.

"I don't see her." The officer says. He looks like everyone else: Hopeless.

"I was wrong." I whisper. He sighs and we start to turn around. "Wait!"

The officer looks startled. "What? Are you hurt?"

I don't answer. I just take off running toward the bridge. That flash of blonde has to be my best friend. "Sam!"

She doesn't hear me. She's staring down at the dark water below her. I think maybe I was wrong when she takes a deep breath and raises the gun in her hand.

"Sam." I call out. I'm only a few feet away from her. She turns and her eyes widen.

"Don't come any closer, Carls. Please." Sam says. She looks down at the water again. "I have to do this."

I shake my head. "You don't. You can come back with me. Don't shoot, Sam." I try to stay calm despite my pounding heart.

Tears fall silently down Sam's cheeks. "I can't live without you! You're making this so much harder. Just…don't. I'm sorry." Her hand tightens on the trigger. In seconds she will have blown her brains out.

"Wait!" I scream. "You don't need me to make good choices. You _are _a good person. You just need to give yourself a chance." I'm inches away now. Maybe I can grab the gun somehow-

"I don't have a purpose." Sam whispers. Then she pulls the trigger.

**Oooh, a cliffy! But there will be two more chapters! So…review!**

**What do you guys think of the story so far?**


	15. Chapter 14: Falling Apart

**Chapter 14: Falling Apart**

"She's here! We found her!" A voice yelled. I struggled to breathe but my lungs wouldn't take air. Two men jumped into the water and began swimming toward me. Then I remembered.

Sam had pulled the trigger and shot herself. She'd fallen off the bridge and into the dark water below. Panicked, I'd jumped in after her. But the water was so cold…it was all I could do to keep myself above water. Sam had probably drowned by now if the bullet hadn't gotten her.

"Carly!" Spencer shouted. He finally reached me and began dragging me back to dry land. "Where's Sam?"

All I could see was endless ocean around me. My best friend was nowhere to be found. "Sam!" How could Spencer keep swimming? Didn't he know Sam might still be out there? We had to find her!

"Spencer, stop! We have to go back!" I kicked weakly but he was stronger than I was. I was too weak to fight anymore. "Sam…"

**X**

When I woke, I was back in my hospital room. A machine was beeping next to my bed, monitoring my heartbeat. But it was so slow. My time was near.

"Hey, Kiddo." Spencer whispers. He squeezes my hand and smiles down at me, but his eyes are bright with tears. "How're you feeling?"

I bolted up in bed. "Sam! Wher-"

Spencer looked alarmed. "Shh…she's ok. She's in the ICU." He stroked my hair. "She's safe."

I try to smile but even that takes too much energy. "Can…" Each word feels like my heart has been set on fire. "I need to see her."

Spencer starts to shake his head but then he silently gets up and brings back a wheel chair. Within minutes he's wheeling me down the hallway to the ICU. Being in a wheelchair is humiliating, but I'm not strong enough to walk on my own.

"Carls." Sam whispers. I recognize her voice, but that isn't my best friend lying in the bed. That's a grinning skeleton. Her beautiful blonde curls are limp. Her face is pale and fragile. The worst part is the blood-stained bandage covering her chest. The place where the bullet entered.

"The bullet missed her heart." A doctor tells me. "But just barely. She'll be fine, but it's going to be a long recovery."

Tears fill Sam's blue eyes. "I'm sorry. I just…don't go Carls. Don't leave me."

I try to tell her that of course I'll stay. I want to, but I can't. My heart speeds up suddenly. It feels like my chest is falling apart.

I make a wheezing sound and clutch my chest; squeezing my eyes shut. Voices cry out around me and hands gently touch my face. Spencer's eyes are wide and terrified.

"My heart…" That's all I can say before my heart takes off. I can hear it beating; shoving through my chest. Something breaks inside of me. Something literally snaps.

"Ohhh." I moan, but it does no good. The machine beeping next to me is going wild. The green line bounces up and down. "Make. It. Stop."

Sam sits there sobbing. She covers her face with her hands and wails as my heart tries to leap out of my body. I've always thought my heartbeat was a comforting sound, but now it sounds like an enemy.

_Bye, Carly. _Ana cackles next to me. _Thanks for playing._

The green line stops beeping suddenly.

My heart never beats again.

**Don't freak out! There will be 1 more chapter! You'll get to see how everyone is effected by Carly's death and how Ana finds a new target…**

**Don't forget to review!**


	16. Epilogue part 1: A Fresh Start

**Chapter 1: A Fresh Start**

**Freddie's POV**

"I love you." I whispered for the last time. The rain poured down as Carly's coffin was lowered into the ground. "I always will." But not the way I loved Sam. Sam and I…were something more. Sam would never leave me this way.

People cried all around me. Spencer was a mess, sobbing and shaking fiercely even though it was June. He looked so lonely and scared. A part of me hated Carly for doing this to him. To all of us.

But even I couldn't hold back tears as I thought about the dead girl. Sam squeezed my hand tightly while we listened to some stranger talk about how special and beautiful Carlotta Shay had been.

_Fuck you. _I thought. He didn't know Carly. How could he say all those things about her?

I hadn't wanted to come to _her _funeral. Mom had made me. She said it would be good for me to let go of Carly. Then I could start over. A Fresh start.

But I wasn't about to let go of Carly. If I did, it would be like she never existed. I wouldn't let her be forgotten. I would make sure she stayed alive…in my mind.

Sam buried her face in my shirt. I looked away. Seeing her in that long black dress reminded me of Carly too much.

_Everything _reminded me of Carly.

"I won't forget you." I say. I look up at the beautiful blue sky and wonder where Carly is right now. Carly Shay isn't the only thing that died a week ago.

So did a big chunk of my heart.

**X**

"Freddie, don't you want the other half?" Sam asked me. She pointed at the half-eaten cinnamon roll in front of us. The hospital cafeteria's food was awful. But it would make sure I didn't go anywhere…

_I know how you feel, Freddie._

I gasped and looked around. "Huh?" But Sam hadn't said anything. We were the only two in the room.

_You miss her don't you. You feel like food only makes the pain more real. _

I stopped breathing. Oh God, was I going crazy? Was I hearing voices in my head?

"Freddie?" Sam asked. She looked worried. "What's wrong?"

I faked a smile and kissed her cheek to calm her. "Nothing. Just…never mind."

_Anorexia isn't a bad thing, Freddie. It saves you._ There. I had definitely heard that high-pitched voice. _You don't have to be alone._

I looked over at Sam. I wasn't alone. I had a girlfriend now. Carly's death had brought me and Sam together. Maybe it wasn't all bad after all.

_You don't mean that._ A tall blonde girl appeared in front of me. But…she wasn't there. Not really. But what I really noticed was how skinny she was. Even skinnier as Carly had been. It was…beautiful.

_Sam can't stop the pain. You know what will._ The skinny blonde told me. She smiled at me.

I somehow knew her name. Ana. Carly had said something about her…but this couldn't be the same Ana. This Ana was an angel. She was perfect in every way.

_Don't you want to be happy?_ Ana asked. She seemed genuinely concerned about me. I nodded. Maybe Ana was the fresh start. Maybe she could help me be happy again. An angel couldn't lie.

"Freddie!" Sam said again. "Aren't you gonna eat that cinnamon roll?"

_Think about what you're doing._ Ana warned.

I shook my head to get rid of Ana. Then I smiled at Sam.

"I'm not hungry."

**DUN DUN DUN! Did you enjoy the ending? Should I continue? Leave a review!**


End file.
